


High Stakes Entreatment

by factorielle



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Casual Sex, Consent Issues, Love Hotels, M/M, Perfect Copy: Remix Challenge, Remix, Secretly a Virgin, Unresolved Emotional Tension, past Kasamatsu/OMC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say you never forget your first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Stakes Entreatment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softintelligence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/gifts).
  * Inspired by [senpai's treat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/487770) by [softintelligence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence). 



> Warning notes at the end.

The problem with Kasamatsu's quiet, hard-won study spot in the school library was that it only remained quiet as long as nobody decided to join him. It was still better than attempting to study in the dorms, but not by so much that he wasn't seriously considering throwing something at Moriyama's head.

After an eternity, the tapping stopped. Kasamatsu almost relaxed, almost managed to focus on his textbook, and then a pencil rolled against it from all the way across the table. He looked up with murder in his heart.

Moriyama grabbed his pencil back, wholly unapologetic, and nodded toward the doors. "It's for you," he mouthed, before returning to tapping the pencil on his notebook. Kasamatsu could see at least three jaws clenching and one dark glare in the vicinity, but nobody said anything.

He checked the time first —twenty minutes to closing time, practice must have been over for at least an hour— then turned to look. It took him an extra second to realize that the visitor wasn't, in fact, one of his former teammates.

Kasamatsu looked back at his notebook, but his semblance of concentration had been snapped and he could feel the weight of Keiji's stare now, pushing at the back of his head like a physical force.

He sighed, and began to pack up his books.

"Don't say hi for me," Moriyama muttered when Kasamatsu got up. At his side, Kobori seemed completely unperturbed by the exchange or the tapping. But then, by nature or design, Kobori never noticed these things. If pressed, he'd probably say that Keiji had been Kasamatsu's friend in their first and early second years, and that they'd drifted apart. Because what else could it be?

Kasamatsu had practiced to perfection the art of steeling his resolve in no time at all. He barely glanced to the side on his way out of the library.

"That's cold, Yukio," Keiji said when they were both out of the librarian's supernatural hearing range. "Ignoring me like that."

"I came out, didn't I?" Kasamatsu said. "What do you want?"

He was doing his best not to look, but Keiji had already overtaken him, was walking half a step ahead and impossible to ignore. He looked good, not that it was any news. He'd been Kaijou's resident pretty boy after all, at least until news had filtered to the student population that the basketball club had recruited a real life model.

"I hear you finally resigned from your team," Keiji said lightly. Kasamatsu's fists clenched. He resisted the childish urge to jump down the last three steps of the stairs and sprint away into the night. "That was fast," he said once they'd left the building. It had barely been twenty-four hours. He'd managed to find something to say to each of the first- and second-years he was leaving behind. All of it heartfelt, not all of it complete — but some things didn't have their place on the court.

Keiji shrugged. "Not really. You're the last of us to quit, you know? We were kind of waiting."

Kasamatsu accelerated, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be fast enough even if he started running. "Waiting for what?" he demanded, as if it wasn't obvious. There weren't that many things for the four of them to do together.

"You know for what," Keiji said, and even in the darkness it wasn't hard to tell he was frowning. "Come on, Yukio. You've done nothing but study and play basketball since— for over a year. When was the last time you let anyone touch you?"

The sense memory of a hand fisted in his jersey and blond hair between his fingers flashed through his mind in answer. His hand had smelled like apple that evening, and he'd wondered if he would forever associate the scent with defeat.

"Summer," he said pointedly. "When I came back from the Interhigh. Minoru and Mashiro… helped out." They'd been there to catch him in the exact same way Keiji hadn't a year before, had asked no questions except ‘how do you want it?' and ‘more water?', and in the morning the responsibility of defeat had felt a little lighter on his shoulders. Not much, but enough to make his way to practice.

Keiji deflated instantly. "I deserved that," he said, looking down. As if it had been about him in the first place. "Listen, about that time," he said after a moment. "I'm not sure I ever said it, and it's not worth much, but I'm sorry. It was… bad timing."

Kasamatsu snorted at the euphemism. He'd boarded the bus high on the twin flushes of the victories to come and the handjob Minoru had just given him behind the gym, ‘for luck', and returned three days later riddled with guilt and desperate for solace. In the circumstances, Keiji's impassioned request that they stop messing around with the others to become an exclusive couple could fall in the ‘bad timing' category, if you dismissed the rival explanation of ‘gross selfishness'.

A year or six months ago, Kasamatsu would have argued the point. Now, it just seemed petty.

"I'm over it," he said, and the words came easy. His sudden rise to responsibility had left him with no time to spend with his… friends, for lack of a term he could use in public. "It's okay."

Most of the sports club were on reduced practice and had already left; the third-years that populated the library wouldn't be out for another fifteen minutes, and the school gate was deserted. Kasamatsu was used to being out here at times like this, but Keiji's presence at his side was a new factor.

So was Keiji's arm wrapping around his shoulders as soon as they'd passed the gate. "What are you doing," Kasamatsu demanded.

"For warmth," Keiji lied blithely, resting his head on Kasamatsu's shoulder for a couple of steps. "It's freezing out here."

It wasn't, but the extra warmth wasn't entirely unwelcome, and the weight of Keiji, his scent, were still comfortingly familiar. Kasamatsu elbowed him in the ribs, not hard enough to push him away.  "Wear a scarf," he snapped, but there was someone leaning against the fence a few steps ahead, street clothes and a mismatched baseball cap bathed in street light, and Kasamatsu pressed a little closer to Keiji to avoid bumping into him.

"Anyway, we're all getting together tonight for dinner and then heading back to Minoru's to— play. You should come too," Keiji said as they were passing the guy, and Kasamatsu saw him twitch.

Something clicked in his head. He ground to a halt, shaking Keiji's arm off.

"Kise," he said, and saw him flinch in the corner of his eye. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Kise flicked up the visor of his cap, the same one Kasamatsu had bought and forced on his head when the team had spent the day in Kamakura, after the third request for an autograph. "Senpai," he said, forcing the whine so obviously it made Kasamatsu roll his eyes, "I'm here incognito, you know?"

"You attend this school, who exactly do you think wouldn't recognize you?"

"You did walk right past him," Keiji pointed out, and raised his hands when Kasamatsu glared at him. His gaze flickered between the two of them. "It's always bad timing, huh?" He took a step back, shooting a smile Kasamatsu wasn't sure he wanted to understand. "You know where to find us when you find the time," he said, already waving goodbye. "I'll see you later, Yukio."

For a frozen second Kasamatsu wondered if everything was written on his face, his infatuation so obvious that even Keiji, Grand Master of relentless self-absorption, would notice and step back.

"Senpai?" Kise asked, quelling the rising panic. "You're not going with your friend?"

"Obviously not," Kasamatsu snorted, and prayed Kise wouldn't ask why.

"So you're free right now?"

He should have gone back to his room, really, gotten some more studying in while it was relatively quiet, but Kise sounded almost hopeful, and there wouldn't be many more excuses for things like this. "Guess so. What do you want to do?"

Kise grinned. "Walk around, I guess?" He glanced around, as if he hadn't been attending the school for a year and had no idea where he was. "That way?" He pointed over his shoulder, away from the dorms and the station, to the busier area where the going home club spent their after class hours. Not that the direction mattered much.

"Sure."

Kasamatsu had never really had the time or interest to hang out there. There had been basketball of course, and keeping up his grade, and discovering everything there was to discover about what four willing bodies could do to one another. Playing video games at the arcade hadn't been much of a priority. When the mood struck, he tended to take the trip to Tokyo rather than stay so close to school.

"So," Kise said once they'd been walking for a quiet minute. "Where are you planning on going to university?"

Kasamatsu had had the conversation so many times in the past year and a half that he could have answered in his sleep, or maybe kicked something in frustration. Kise was one of the rare people around him who'd never asked, and he'd tried not to draw conclusions one way or the other. Kise was not much for thinking about the future.

"I'm taking a couple of entrance exams," he said. It was better than the silence. "But mainly I'm aiming for the National Institute of Fitness and Sports."

"In Kanoya? Wow, that's the farthest from here you can go without leaving the country altogether, huh?"

He'd noticed. The distance had been a factor against, until he'd realized that he was shooting himself in the foot. Staying in Kanto wasn't a goal in itself, and Kaijou would get on fine without him. Moving on was in the natural order of things. He had to give himself the best chance he could.

But he'd noticed.

"Your sense of geography is abysmal," he scolded. "What about Okinawa?"

"There isn't a sports university there, though," Kise said easily, which gave Kasamatsu pause.

He should have been used to this by now, to these nuggets of knowledge he never expected Kise to have— or, if he did, to present as something worthy of a reward.

"You're already looking this up? That's surprisingly forward-thinking of you."

"That's mean, senpai," Kise said like an ingrained reflex. "I…" He stopped there, deflated. A few steps later, he veered to the left without warning, dodging in an alley so narrow that his shoulders barely fit and dark enough that any obstacle might turn deadly.

"What the hell," Kasamatsu grumbled, but followed Kise anyway.

"It's a shortcut," Kise promised. To where, he didn't say, and Kasamatsu wasn't especially interested.

"So I guess once you graduate you won't be coming back," Kise said after squeezing past something that, once Kasamatsu bumped hard into it, turned out to be a bike. "Since your family doesn't live here."

"Probably not," Kasamatsu said, frowning at the back of Kise's head. There had been half-baked plans to return every now and then, ready-made excuses popping up in his mind when he was on the cusp between exhaustion and sleep, but those had been nothing but daydreams. Watching Hayakawa's first practice as captain had been enough to seal the notion; Kaijou's basketball team didn't need him anymore. "But if the next Interhigh isn't too far, I'll go watch your games." He was careful about the plural, despite knowing that his eyes would be drawn to Kise, because they always were. On the court, everyone was drawn to Kise.

They spilled out of the claustrophobic press of the alley and into a much busier, better lit street populated mostly with students from Kaijou and neighboring schools, and now the baseball cap made sense.

The street was lined with shops — cutesy socks, second-hand books, ramen, cheap jewelry. Somewhere close, a door opened on the deafening noise of an arcade, then stifled it again when it closed. He had to have been here before; some of this seemed oddly familiar.

"Do you mind if we sit?" Kise asked, nodding at an empty bench, and recollection hit Kasamatsu like a ton of bricks.

"Tired already?" he asked, making a valiant effort not to look behind him for what he knew he'd find.

Kise shrugged. "We're not really going anywhere, are we?"

Then why take a shortcut in the first place? Kasamatsu sat down next to Kise, facing the building across the street. In an area full of colors and noises, the opaque entrance, shuttered windows and discreet plaque advertising the cheapest resting rates in the area only served to draw more attention; it was Misdirection Overflow in architectural form, and of course Kasamatsu had been here before. He'd been sitting on this very bench when Mashiro had decided he wanted to check out the room with all the mirrors.

A man in overalls, maybe a construction worker, came out and turned left. A few seconds later, an older office lady in a neat suit and heels that gave Kasamatsu back ache just looking at her followed him, and went right.

He turned his attention back to Kise, who was staring idly into the distance.

Saying nothing.

Kasamatsu couldn't remember ever having to keep up a conversation with Kise. The hard task was normally getting him to shut up, be it about his old teammates or his side job or really anything; eventually Kasamatsu had stopped trying, which was not the same as giving up.

Now there was nothing coming from Kise. Yesterday's captain of the basketball team would have had something to say; today's Kasamatsu Yukio, bereft of the force that had supported him in matching up against his exceedingly talented ace, was at a loss for words. It came down to this, a last conversation they didn't seem capable of having, silence growing uncomfortable without a shared goal to keep them together. The knowledge curled in his stomach and nested there, along with his other failures of the past three years.

He'd fully expected this one. Kise had been unattainable, by design and from the very beginning. There was no point in hanging on.

The forewarning didn't help.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Maybe Keiji would pick up if he called, and while it wasn't what he wanted, at least he'd have a distraction.

"I should-" he started, leaning forward, but before he'd even finished Kise had jumped to his feet, was standing so close in front of him that getting up would bring Kasamatsu right into his space. Kasamatsu leaned back against the backrest, frowning.

Kise was smiling, or maybe the word was ‘smirk'. An expression Kasamatsu was used to having at his back, silently supporting the challenge Kasamatsu threw at their opponents on the court. He hadn't had it directed at him since their first practice.

"Hey, senpai," Kise said, his voice turned challenging. As if the past year hadn't happened.

"What?"

Kise's smirk widened as he tilted his head toward the love hotel.

"Have you ever thought about fucking me?"

* * *

It was a mistake.

Kasamatsu had known it the moment he'd opened his mouth to answer, and kept knowing it when Kise had chosen the room (a simple one, no extraneous mirror to be found here), and when they'd stood in silence in the elevator, and when Kise had claimed the first shower.

It was a mistake and he was still taking every step to make it, scrubbing his skin raw under the spray, chipping away at the two hours Kise had paid for.

But he'd said yes, hadn't he? Hadn't even thought about it, because who would turn such an offer down? He'd agreed and now he had to follow through and make the best of it. This much he could do, at least. The extent of Kise's experience was a nebulous shape framed by fragments of stories, a mention of a girlfriend here, a fan waiting for him after practice there, but Kasamatsu was hardly a beginner at this himself. He could hold his own in the face of Kise's smirk, and if the notion of competitive sex didn't appeal to him all that much, he could still recall a time when it had.

He shut off the water and barely patted himself dry before he wrapped one of the larger towels around his hips in a semblance of propriety he hadn't bothered with for Mashiro, and went back to the room.

Kise was laid out on the bed, the thin white sheet only serving to emphasize the lines of his body. He looked up when Kasamatsu came back, gave him that smirk again and sat up, long legs sliding out from under the sheet. His feet landed wide apart on the carpeting, and Kasamatsu had nothing to divert his attention from Kise than more of Kise; the tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips and the hard line of muscle in his inner thighs.

He walked on, transfixed, until he was standing between Kise's knees and still staring, still helpless to find what to do now, how to make this what he needed it to be.

Kise leaned forward, hooked his fingers in the towel. Kasamatsu shivered when Kise's nails scraped on his skin.

With a flick of his finger, Kise untucked the corner of the towel, which began to slide down. Kasamatsu stepped back, heart speeding up beyond acceptable levels. He wasn't— ready yet, down there, and he didn't want…  

"Please," Kise said in his talking-to-adults voice, tugging the towel until unraveling further, "allow me."

Kasamatsu did.

Apparently unfussed by his lack of positive reaction, Kise rested his forehead against Kasamatsu's hip and wrapped a hand around his dick, loose and warm.

Kasamatsu focused on breathing while Kise touched him, growing more and more insistent as it became clear that nothing he did was getting him a reaction.

Then Kasamatsu felt the weight of Kise's head move to the side and down, and the warm breath on his skin stirred nothing but nausea. "Stop."

"No," Kise said urgently. "Please, I can, just give me a—"

Kasamatsu put his hand on Kise's head, ready to push him back. "Kise." That part was easy, at least, when he knew what order to give. "I told you to stop."

Kise's shoulders slumped, but he let go, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, barely audible.

"It's fine," Kasamatsu answered automatically. He bit his lips against more useless words, clenched his fists, and returned to the bathroom. He put his clothes back on wishing for a blue uniform and a court, where he knew how to push through any disaster and take responsibility.

When he came back, Kise had retreated to his earlier spot under the sheets and was hugging his knees, staring mournfully at the opposite wall. "I'm sorry," he said again, and that was just not acceptable.

Kasamatsu sat on the side of the bed, stared straight at the bathroom door. "Stop that already. I told you, it's fine. This is my mistake."

There was a sharp intake of breath that faded into silence and a shift in the sheets.

A mistake, and Kasamatsu had chosen to make it.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why am I sorry?"

Kasamatsu clicked his tongue at the misunderstanding. However they might have clashed in the beginning, Kise had always understood his meaning from a few words and a hand on his shoulder when it was important.

But then, everything important between them had always been about basketball. This was new territory. "Why did you offer?" he clarified.

"I thought you wanted it," Kise said, and a fist clenched around Kasamatsu's guts and held. "I was so sure. You looked at me sometimes like…" he trailed off, and Kasamatsu didn't ask him to explain.

 _Like you're starving_ , Kobori had said three weeks before the Winter Cup. _I know how badly you want this victory, but you can't put it all on him. Get it together, captain._ Kasamatsu had never been so grateful for his vice-captain's natural resilience against all things sex and romance.

But he'd earned more than Kise's grudging respect over the past year, and if this was because he'd wanted it, if it was a thank you or some sort of obligation, then…

"I didn't think you'd noticed," Kasamatsu said, falling back on the safety net of rules and manners. His voice felt thick, unnatural. "That was improper. I apologize."

Kise made a noise halfway between a snort and a wet sob. "You sounded like Kurokocchi just now," he said, followed by a loud sniff.

"I'll kick you." Kasamatsu said flatly, and dared to glance. There was a shadow of a smile on Kise's face, even though he was looking down at his fists clenched in the sheet. "You didn't answer the question." The answer couldn't be good, but he didn't want to be the kind of man who'd run away from it.

Kise bit his lip, shook his head. "You're leaving," he said at last. "For good. I always knew that, I guess, but I just…" He wrapped his arms tighter around his knees. "They say you never forget your first time."

Was that what this was? Giving his senpai a proper send-off? "You're not my first time. Not by a long shot," Kasamatsu spat, but the sick taste in his mouth didn't leave.  

"It wasn't for you," Kise said quietly. "I just wanted to have _something_."

 _Have_ , he said, not _give_. _Have_ , and the world became brighter. _Have_ and Kasamatsu's body went loose with relief even as the implications of Kise's words whirled in his head.

"Most people ask for a button, you know," he said, leaning back. Kise obediently untangled himself and shuffled his legs to provide an appropriate back rest. When Kasamatsu looked at him, he found Kise staring back, confused but no longer as distressed.

"That'd ruin the line of the jacket," Kise said reasonably. "We don't wear gakuran, senpai."

"So you went for the next best thing?" It was a terrible thing to ask, but Kise's logic was still an unfathomable mystery.

"Like I said," Kise said with a pout. "I thought you wanted it."

"Not like this." Not as some sort of competition or desperate measure, and he had to made that clear. "The guy I was with earlier…"

Had apparently given Kasamatsu his own natural talent for sticking his foot in his mouth, because he could feel Kise's legs tense against his back.

"Was he? Your first?"

As if that even mattered. "That depends on your definition," Kasamatsu said, and that was as far as he was willing to go on this one. "But it doesn't matter. You heard the invitation?"

"Well, I was standing right there, so…" Kise said, half apologetic.

Kasamatsu didn't comment on his blatant eavesdropping. "He was inviting me to spend the night." And he could only hope he wouldn't have to make that more explicit.

"But he said ‘we're all going—' oh." Kise swallowed audibly. "How many…"

"None of your business," Kasamatsu ground out. "The point is I stayed with you instead."

"Ever the senpai," Kise said, tone indecipherable and that was it, Kasamatsu was done with his pretty, oblivious head.

He pushed himself away from his human backrest and punched Kise in the approximate location of his stomach. "Are you even listening to me, you twit?" he asked, grinding his fist into hard muscle through the flimsy protection of the sheets.

Kise laid his hand on top of Kasamatsu's. It had happened before, Kise pushing back the punishment that was coming his way, and it always made Kasamatsu stop dead in his tracks. "I always listen," Kise said, a blatant lie that Kasamatsu was willing to allow this time because Kise looked both serious and open, almost fragile. "But I don't know if I can take any false hope right now."

And that was the whole problem, isn't it? Entertaining the thought of Kise wanting him back was easy enough in a dream world with no looming deadline, but that wasn't the reality of it. "I'm leaving in two months," he said. "Knowing that, how much hope can there be?"

Kise's hand was still on his, and Kise was still staring at him, intense, avid. He tilted his head, and Kasamatsu found his eyes drawn to the bare line of his neck. "We live and die in forty minutes," Kise said as if it was a statement of fact and not the grossest over-dramatization of a basketball game Kasamatsu had ever heard. "Compared to that, two months is a long time."

He had a point, damn him, and immediately moved to retract it.

"I mean, not everything is about basketball, I get that, but--"

"No." No. Kasamatsu didn't run away, never had — never for long, at least. "You're right." It was long enough to be worth trying. He twisted his hand until his fingertips were grazing against Kise's wrist, and he imagined he could feel the heartbeat there. "It's a selfish request. I won't have much free time, but I know what I want to do with it." Kise's eyes were wide and so, so hopeful. "Go out with me."

 "Selfish is okay sometimes," Kise said, grinning, and Kasamatsu had known he'd say yes but relief flooded over him just the same.

"You'd know, you pampered brat," he said, but no insult could cover how brightly he was smiling.

"Yes, I've been well taken care of. I hope it continues in the future." His eyes were sparkling and the sheet has mostly slid off and Kasamatsu wanted to pin him to the bed and give him everything to remember, spend the next two months right here in this room, never break skin contact.

He pulled away and got up. "Good. Get dressed."

"What?"

Kasamatsu had his back to him but he could still tell Kise was frozen in place, wide-eyed, mouth gaping. He grinned at the wall before picking up the clothes Kise had shed a eon ago. "We're going out. To dinner." He tossed the clothes at Kise. In Kise's face, to be specific.

"B-but," Kise spluttered, batting his pants away as he stared at Kasamatsu in unadulterated dismay. "Two months! Free time! There's still at least an hour--"

Kasamatsu gave him his best unimpressed look, which did not work well with all the smiling. "Do you really want your unforgettable first time to happen in a place like this?"

Kise pouted, but they'd butted heads often enough. Kasamatsu wouldn't move, and they both knew it.

Kise sighed and did something, a sinuous move that didn't have a name in any language and ended with him on his feet, tugging his boxer briefs up.

Unfortunately, it also ended with Kasamatsu staring, open-mouthed, at the way the elastic pressed against Kise's skin.

He cleared his throat and looked up to find Kise smiling wide, eyes crinkled, enticing in a way the smirk never was, and how could Kasamatsu ever have been fooled by it? "You know," Kise said, taking a predatory step forward. "I appreciate that you want me to have good first experiences, but…" his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Kasamatsu's vision blurred a little. "I have been kissed before."

"Oh?" Kasamatsu asked, pushing back the spike of discontent that welled up at the thought. He stepped up to Kise, wrapped his hand at the back of Kise's head, tugged him down. "In that case, I guess it's okay," he breathed against Kise's lips, and just brushed against them, taking advantage of Kise's sudden inability to move to tease with the lightest contact before pulling back.

"That's _cheating_ ," Kise protested.

It was. But Kise was a fast learner; Kasamatsu had to use his advantage while he had it. "Get going. I'll treat you to dinner."

"I can buy my own dinner," Kise pouted, but he was already buttoning up his shirt.

"Dinner and dessert," Kasamatsu said, emphasizing the last word, and relished the flush that spread over Kise's cheeks.

Two months might not be much, might not be enough, but he'd make the best of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Consent issues: character is consenting but second guessing himself; when he retracts his consent, he has to insist to get his partner to stop.


End file.
